


The Johnny Experience

by fallingintodivinity



Category: Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mild spoilers for FF7R, canon crossdressing, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23941231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingintodivinity/pseuds/fallingintodivinity
Summary: Shit, shit, shit. He was supposed to have picked Aerith up at Madam M’s an hour ago, and here he was instead, massively hung over and inexplicably naked in a crappy little motel room bed. Aerith was going to kill him.Cloud groaned weakly. Things could literally not get any worse. At least he hadn’t accidentally slept with someone.An answering groan issued from the other side of the bed.“Bro?” said a feeble voice.
Relationships: Johnny/Cloud Strife
Comments: 20
Kudos: 122





	The Johnny Experience

**Author's Note:**

> Okay look you cannot give me an in-game achievement called ‘The Johnny Experience’ and not expect me to immediately write crackfic about it.

He was lying on something soft.

As consciousness slowly returned, Cloud gingerly – _very_ gingerly – cracked one eye open and immediately flinched as his eyeball was assailed by the harsh, unforgiving brightness of an overhead fluorescent light.

He hurriedly squeezed his eye shut. His head felt like there was an entire squadron of chocobos dancing on it.

After some further cautious exploration, he realized that he was lying on what felt like a bed. The sheets were made of some kind of scratchy material that was making his back itch. And…he wasn’t wearing any clothes. _Why_ was he not wearing any clothes.

Oh, god. He was never drinking anything that came out of a suspicious-looking vending machine in a dodgy little motel in Wall Market ever again. He wasn’t even sure why he’d done so in the first place.

Cloud raised a shaky hand to shade his face from the glare of the fluorescent light on the ceiling and made another valiant attempt to force his eyes open. Upon succeeding, he squinted muzzily at the clock on the wall. It read 9:00 PM.

Shit, shit, shit. He was supposed to have picked Aerith up at Madam M’s an hour ago, and here he was instead, massively hung over and inexplicably naked in a crappy little motel room bed. Aerith was going to kill him.

He groaned weakly. Things could literally not get any worse. At least he hadn’t accidentally slept with someone.

An answering groan issued from the other side of the bed, startling Cloud so badly that he’d have leapt off his side of the bed if he were capable of moving, which he was not.

“Bro?” said a feeble voice.

***

Cloud’s first instinct upon realizing that he was not, in fact, alone in his crappy motel room bed had been to attempt to fling himself to his feet and make a grab for his sword.

Unfortunately, since his coordination was shot to hell, what actually resulted was him stumbling out the side of the bed and tripping over the hilt of his sword, which was lying on the faded carpet beside the bed. This sent him facefirst onto the floor with a loud thump, which did no favors for either his hangover or his dignity.

Cloud mumbled a curse into the moldy carpet and slowly and pitifully rolled over onto his back.

A startled face, crowned with tousled red hair, popped into his field of view. Johnny – for it was indeed Johnny whom he’d apparently tumbled into bed with – was naked from the waist up, which was all Cloud could see of him at the moment. He also looked about as hung over as Cloud felt. Even the soft crimson spikes of his hair were droopy.

Cloud was hit with a sudden, _visceral_ memory of blindly tangling his fingers in those spikes, head tipped back and panting hard, as Johnny sucked a line of kisses along his jaw. He groaned and flung a despairing arm over his face.

“Bro?” said Johnny, sounding mildly alarmed. “Are you okay?”

“No,” said Cloud grumpily. “And stop calling me that.” He struggled unsteadily to his feet, shoved Johnny over – discovering in the process that yes, Johnny was indeed as wholly naked as Cloud was – and sat heavily on the side of the bed.

“Whew!” said Johnny, stretching. He leaned back against the rickety headboard, tucking his hands behind his head. “So, that sure was some crazy Vitalabrew, huh?”

“Vitalabrew is an _energy drink_ ,” Cloud said, scowling. “Whatever we drank sure as hell wasn’t Vitalabrew.” He sighed heavily. “Serves us right for drinking some weird stuff that came out of a motel vending machine with secret buttons, I suppose.”

“Well, that weirdo materia guy only wanted The Sauce,” Johnny pointed out cheerfully. “Woulda been a pity to let the Vitalabrew go to waste, right? I mean, we did get it for free from the vending machine, after all.”

Cloud sighed. “How are you even still alive,” he muttered, then gulped as Johnny sprawled indolently back on the pillows, all lithe muscle and creamy skin, crimson hair spilling softly over the cheap bedsheets. A few hours ago, Cloud had had his fingers in that hair, had kissed that soft pink mouth. He’d wrapped his hands around those muscled arms and spread his thighs wide as Johnny pushed into him, his mouth warm and firm and wet on Cloud’s, and – no. _No._ He was _not_ thinking about this right now.

Cloud dropped his head into his hands, thumbs massaging his throbbing temples.

“What’s wrong?” Johnny asked, peering at Cloud concernedly.

“I was supposed to go get Aerith an hour ago,” Cloud mumbled into his hands. “And my head hurts.”

“Mine does, too,” Johnny agreed. Cloud looked up at him. Johnny nodded vigorously in emphasis, then winced as the motion presumably aggravated his headache.

Cloud sighed. “Look,” he said. “I have to do some recon at Don Corneo’s. Go find Aerith at Madam M’s. Tell her to wait for me there once she’s done, okay?”

“Sure!” Johnny said enthusiastically. He leapt to his feet, then moaned pitifully and pressed a hand to his head.

“You might want to move a little slower,” Cloud told him dryly. “Oh, and put on some pants, too.”

***

Aerith had refused to wait at Madam M’s, which Cloud had kind of expected. She also had an idea for how to get Cloud into Don Corneo’s mansion with her, which Cloud had _not_ expected. He glared at the neon-lit sign of the Honeybee Inn above him, then stared suspiciously at Aerith, who seemed _much_ too pleased with her plan for Cloud’s comfort.

The moment Cloud got to the backstage area of the Honeybee Inn, he was set upon by a veritable army of devastatingly attractive men and women in skimpy black-and-gold bumblebee costumes, which would have already been terrifying enough without the presence of a very familiar face among the throng.

“What are _you_ doing here?” he hissed once Johnny got within earshot. Johnny was nattily outfitted as one of the – the – _honeyboys_ , the receptionist had called them, softly shimmering black-and-gold vest over a crisp, tight-fitting white long-sleeved shirt, the tails artfully loose over slim-fitting black pants. A few strands of red hair were visible beneath the top hat perched perkily on his head.

Cloud glared fiercely at Johnny and tried his very best to ignore the fact that the white shirt showed off Johnny’s muscled chest rather nicely.

“Aerith told me all about the plan,” Johnny whispered conspiratorially, leaning in so close that they were practically nose-to-nose. Cloud blinked. Johnny’s lips were half an inch from his.

“So, I’m here undercover! To look out for you!” Johnny beamed at Cloud, bright and sincere, then touched Cloud’s hand gently. His palm was warm on Cloud’s. “I’ve got your back, bro.”

Cloud gaped at him. He didn’t have time to formulate a reply before he was dragged off by a group of three beautiful honeygirls and brought to a booth right in front of the stage. The girls giggled merrily over him, poking and prodding at his arms and shoulders while Cloud squirmed distractedly, trying not to think of Johnny’s mouth or hands or chest. Or any other parts of him that Cloud may or may not have seen earlier that evening.

“Aww,” one of the girls cooed, poking at Cloud’s face. “He’s blushing!”

***

Cloud did not like dancing.

As such, being made to dance – on stage, in front of a huge crowd, no less – was something of a trial. After he’d almost tripped over his own feet for the third time, he gritted his teeth and, recalling the advice given to him by his mother about speaking in front of his class when he was a child – _you’ll be fine, honey, just pick one person in the audience and pretend you’re speaking only to them_ – let his gaze wander over the wildly cheering audience.

He only realized that he might’ve possibly been looking for one specific person when his eyes locked with Johnny’s. The other man was sitting in the front row of the audience, top hat off now, and when he realized that Cloud was looking at him, he grinned back at Cloud, wide and encouraging.

At the same time, though, Johnny lifted a hand to tug at the collar of his white shirt, a nervous gesture strangely incongruous with his cheery smile. He looked like his breaths were coming a little quicker than was strictly normal. Cloud blinked, biting his lip in puzzlement; then when Johnny licked his lips, staring enraptured at him, it suddenly occurred to Cloud: Johnny looked damned gorgeous all dressed up like this, and also, Johnny _wanted_ him.

That particular realization got _Cloud_ all hot and bothered, a sharp curl of desire burning low in his gut, and, oh god, he was getting hard _on stage_ in front of few hundred people just from Johnny _looking_ at him like that. He spun around to hide it, deeply grateful for the bagginess of SOLDIER pants, did a couple of side-steps with Andrea and firmly refused to look at Johnny for the remainder of the dance.

He did, however, glance at Aerith, who was clapping delightedly, near the end of the dance. His friend was sitting in the front row as well, a few tables down from Johnny. When Aerith met Cloud’s eyes, she winked, entirely too knowingly for comfort. He felt his face grow hot again, and, cursing his fair complexion, hoped fervently that the crowd would attribute his flush to exertion.

***

Getting put into a dress, _on stage_ , was terrible. Once the whole ordeal was over, Cloud did his best to blend in with the regulars, slipping out the main doors of the Honeybee Inn as the excited crowd trickled out into the street.

He took a deep breath of the cool, sweet night air, grabbed a firm handful of his voluminous skirts in each hand and marched determinedly toward the most deserted corner he could find, wobbling a little on the high-heeled shoes they’d put him in.

“Wow, Cloud!” Aerith chirped from somewhere behind him. “Now that was a show!”

He kept walking. “Cloud!” Aerith called, her heels making little clicking noises on the pavement as she hurried to keep up with him.

Finally, miraculously, he managed to find a corner that was relatively quiet in the midst of the bustle of Wall Market. At a loss, he came to a stop, shoulders hunched.

“Cloud?” Aerith said again from behind him. Her voice was gentle.

“Please don’t,” he said, strained. God, this was so incredibly embarrassing. He felt entirely out of his element, cripplingly so; and not having his sword with him, or the comforting familiarity of his SOLDIER uniform against his skin, had him feeling suddenly, horribly vulnerable.

“I’ll be right back,” Aerith murmured from behind him, then with a rustle of fabric, she was gone. Cloud was so preoccupied with trying to decide whether to go after her that when a gentle hand landed on his shoulder, he almost jumped out of his skin.

“Aerith,” he said, turning, then stopped short. “You’re not Aerith.”

“I just came to check on you,” Johnny said, beaming. He’d changed back into his regular clothes, his leather jacket hanging open as usual over his bare chest. His usually impeccably styled hair was a little messy, probably from the top hat he’d been wearing at the Honeybee Inn. “I told you I had your back!”

“Um, thanks?” Cloud said. “Don’t suppose you also have my sword and my uniform, while you’re at it.”

“Sorry,” Johnny said ruefully.

Cloud scowled, poking miserably at his dress. “This sucks.”

“Nobody could take their eyes off you when you were on stage, you know,” Johnny said. “You were amazing.” He sighed, sounding wistful. “Honestly, I was kinda jealous – I mean,” he cut himself off quickly, “I know I don’t have a right to be, but I couldn’t help it.”

“Jealous?” Cloud said blankly.

Johnny laughed nervously, raising a hand to run it through his hair. “Um. Yeah? I mean, you’re gorgeous and talented and smart, who wouldn’t want you, right?”

Cloud frowned at him quizzically. “Me? I can’t dance. I kept tripping over my own feet.”

“I thought you were great,” Johnny said. “And, I mean, you, uh.” He swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing visibly, then waved a hand to encompass Cloud’s general person. “You really do look incredible. In, um, the dress.”

“You don’t have to say that,” Cloud said dryly. “I’m not actually a girl, you know.”

“Huh? It wouldn’t matter if you were,” Johnny said, his eyes wide and so damned sincere. “You know I’d like you all the same, right?”

“Ugh. You can’t just _say_ things like that,” Cloud told him crossly. “It’s embarrassing.” And at that point it was pretty much a choice between dying of mortification and kissing the damned idiot, so Cloud went with the more productive option.

He grabbed Johnny by the collar of his jacket and dragged him round the corner into one of the many dingy little alleyways that Wall Market was famous for, then slammed his mouth over Johnny’s.

Johnny responded immediately and with great enthusiasm, pressing Cloud back against the rough brick wall of the alley and kissing him back hard and wet and sloppy, his hands curving around Cloud’s waist as he pressed closer. Cloud moaned, parting his lips to let Johnny lick into his mouth. He slipped his hands beneath Johnny’s jacket, letting his fingers roam greedily over smooth skin and hard muscle. When he ran his thumb over a nipple, Johnny gasped, arching into his hands.

Cloud could feel Johnny’s cock pressing firm against his thigh even through his layers of skirts, and it was driving him a little bit crazy. It was honestly kind of embarrassing how badly he wanted Johnny, even though he’d already had him earlier that evening, but Johnny seemed, if anything, _more_ eager than Cloud himself was, so the embarrassment didn’t, in the end, seem to matter all that much.

In any case, Cloud had suffered enough humiliation over the intervening few hours that he _deserved_ this, damn it.

It was with that thought that he flicked the button of Johnny’s jeans open, and, not even bothering with actually trying to get the other man’s jeans off, opted for the expediency of yanking the zip down and shoving his hand down the front. He curled his fingers firmly around Johnny’s cock.

“ _Cloud,_ ” Johnny whimpered, and pushed into the circle of Cloud’s fist, panting as Cloud stroked him, slick and hot. He fumbled at Cloud’s skirts, pushing them up and out of the way. Johnny’s hands were firm and sure on Cloud’s bare thighs, and it felt so deliciously wanton, standing in a filthy alleyway with his dress hiked up to his hips and legs spread wide, Johnny touching him beneath. Then –

“ _Oh,_ ” Johnny said, strangled. “They gave you _panties?_ ” He ran a finger over the tiny scrap of satin, now stretched completely out of shape by Cloud’s straining cock.

“Yes, matches the dress, and if you don’t get them out of the way and touch me _right now_ , I’ll run you through with my sword,” Cloud gritted out.

Johnny grinned. “You can poke me with your sword anytime,” he teased, laughing but also breathless with desire, eyes lust-darkened as he hastened to push the delicate satin garment out of the way and finally, finally wrap his hand around Cloud’s aching cock.

“ _God,_ ” Cloud said, clutching for dear life at Johnny’s shoulder with one hand while ruthlessly stroking him with the other, and it felt so, so good, sweat and precome easing the way as they rocked into each other’s fists, breaths coming fast and uneven until Johnny groaned, the fingers of his free hand tightening on Cloud’s arm, hips stuttering.

“Damn,” he said, panting. “Cloud, I‘m gonna,” and Cloud moaned “ _yes,_ Johnny, c’mon,” clutching at him. Johnny shuddered, spurting messily all over his jeans and Cloud’s fingers, and the sight of him gorgeously flushed and sweaty and panting sent Cloud right over the edge with him.

***

“So, um, I guess you and Aerith are going to go rescue Tifa now?” Johnny said.

They’d cleaned up as much as they could, tucking themselves back into their clothing. Johnny had taken his jacket off and tied it around his waist to hide the stains on his jeans – looking at the wreck of his jeans had made him blush, which had greatly amused Cloud – and Cloud’s dress did not have any _visible_ stains on it, which he was immensely grateful for. He wasn’t going to be able to look Aerith in the eye as it was, because she most definitely knew what he and Johnny had been up to while she’d been conveniently absent.

Cloud nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well. Good luck!” Johnny said brightly. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re done. And, uh.” He cleared his throat, looking sheepish. “Um, maybe when you’re finished with the rescue, you’ll let me bring you on a date?”

Cloud blinked. “What?”

“And no Vitalabrew this time,” Johnny added quickly, and grinned nervously at him.

Cloud raised an eyebrow. “I’ll think about it,” he said nonchalantly, feigning reluctance, but then ruined the entire effect when he couldn’t help but let his lips twitch up, just a little.

“ _Yes!_ ” Johnny said happily. He pumped his fist in the air, then froze, looked sheepishly at Cloud and tucked his hands behind his back, as if that would make Cloud magically forget the last thirty seconds, the idiot. “I mean, cool. Yeah. Great.” He ran a hand through his hair, and shot Cloud a bashful smile. “I’ll, um, see you later?”

Cloud couldn’t help but laugh, then. “Yeah. Later.”

End.


End file.
